


The Dangers of being a uncoordinated individual and suddenly gaining Antlers

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Series: Guardian 'Verse [5]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: And generally really adorable, Beast!Wirt - Freeform, F/M, I could write forever about it, Slice o' life, Wirt is clumsy, and embarrassed, fall is beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8537656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: What does the Guardian of the Woods do in his free time? The Guardian and the Author attempt to figure it out.(Also, that is a very long title. I ran out of ideas...)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Beatrice to show up, and yeah, I ship them... Then I thought- wait! Wirt suddenly has these huge wooden antlers on his head!
> 
> Also, warning, I wasn't really happy with how this turned out and I reworked it a lot. (Hence why there was a rather long absence of an update in this verse.) I'm still not totally happy with it, but I decided what the heck.

Wirt didn't really know what he was doing. He really didn't. He didn't know what he was supposed to do and he certainly didn't know why everybody thought he knew what he was doing.

Well, actually, it wasn't so bad.

The weather was in a perpetual state of autumn perfection.

He walked along the ground, dry leaves crunching under his feet. The trees were garbed with warm hues of red, orange, and gold. The turkeys gobbled as they passed warily and the geese cawed as they flew north across the clouds in a V formation.

" _The trees are in their autumn beauty,_  
The woodland paths are dry,  
Under the October twilight the water  
Mirrors a still sky..."

Wirt shook his head as the stanzas of poetry faded away. He couldn't afford to go back to thinking about poetry again. The last time it had happened, he completely lost track of time and spent three days wandering the forest aimlessly. He found it strange that it was so easy to lose himself to the forest. It had been menacing and strange only a few days ago.

Somehow it had changed recently. He'd only been it's guardian for a week and already the trees were brighter and the sun permeated the darkest parts of the forest floor.

Wirt held his lantern higher and looked around. There was something moving in the underbrush. He froze and swallowed, "H- Hello?"

A girl peered around a tree and she smiled, her freckled face lighting up at the sight of him, "Wirt!"

He nearly dropped the lantern. Which wouldn't have been good because that was his soul, also someone really should've thought it over before deciding to put souls in lanterns, he was extraordinarily clumsy. He asked incredulously, "Beatrice?!"

The entire bottom of her bluebird colored dress was covered in mud, she had burrs in her hair, and her face was scratched- still she was a familiar (unfamiliar?) face and that was nice. She opened her mouth and asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"Um. I, uh- I don't know."

She put her hands on her hips, "You have no idea what you're doing do you."

It wasn't a question and Wirt blushed vividly, "No?"

Beatrice sighed, "Come on, you can stay with us until you figure it out."

"U- us?"

She nodded, "Yeah, my family," She then whistled and in response a hauntingly well-known brown and white dog bounded through the trees barking madly.

Wirt cocked his head, "That was your dog?"

"What?"

"Oh, uh... Uh..." Wirt thought about the incident where he'd destroyed a mill, ran like a coward, and nearly crushed Beatrice's dog. He decided not to go any farther with that story, "Uh... Black turtles and stuff."

"Oh."

They walked in silence for a little bit more until Beatrice responded more articulately, "I should tell you, those black turtles have weird effects. You really shouldn't eat them, only witches do, and most animals know to avoid them. There are a few incidents though..."

Was his face always going to be in a perpetual state of redness from now on? Wirt nodded sagely, trying to keep his embarrassment concealed, "I'll keep that in mind."

Beatrice put her thin freckled arms on her hips and stopped suddenly, "Wirt, I- WAAAH!"

Wirt had kept walking, not knowing that Beatrice had stopped. She was unfortunately taller then Wirt and he had smacked her with his long antlers. Antlers that he probably wouldn't ever be used to having. The two teens fell in a sprawl, Beatrice with a now sizable lump on the back of head.

"Oh, I hate you so much right now."

"Sorry! Sorry!" Wirt stood up and tried to help her, but it was a delicate thing to stand balanced with large antlers on the side of your head. He promptly fell over again.

It had only been a week and he was still clumsy! It wasn't his fault he'd gained antlers suddenly! However, he supposed it was his fault he knocked Beatrice over and caused her to yell.

She glared at him as she sat up rubbing her head, "How can you stand with those lopsided things anyway?"

He blushed, "I- I can't, really. It... It requires practice."

"Practice that you don't have, you mean."

He lay there, in the leaves and watched the clouds move by in the autumn winds, having completely given up on not being embarrassed, "Yeah..."

Beatrice sighed and lay there in the leaves next to him, "You're going to have to get up eventually, you know."

Wirt huffed, "Yeah, but eventually isn't right now, is it?"

Beatrice snorted, "Stubborn jerk..."

He smiled as she smirked at him. Some things didn't really change.

"So, Wirt... What I was trying to say is that you could stay with my family at night because I know that it must be kinda hard wandering around the forest. By yourself. With no purpose in life."

Wirt raised an eyebrow as she rambled nearly the exact words of their first actual meeting. He decided to respond, "This journey isn't going to end with an insane witch who wants to stuff my head with wool, will it?"

She laughed.

For some reason he blushed again.

What was wrong with him? Why was his face perpetually red? What was this?!

"No, it's just my grandmother used to tell us that the Guardian of the Woods would stop and stay with strangers of goodwill for the night. Then during the day he'd wander the forests saving lost souls. I'd quite forgotten about her stories until now and I can't believe I did. Maybe it was part of the Beast's strange magics?"

Wirt listened to her as she rambled about the Unknown and several interesting parts of history.

It was as he lay there, listening to his (dare he say it?) friend, talk about her land that he realized something. He was content. Greg was safe and he even though he might never see him again- at least he knew he was safe.

The colorful leaves of the old trees blew, Beatrice told stories, and Wirt listened intently while chiming in at points. Her dog lay beside them sleeping peacefully as the day passed.

**Author's Note:**

> The poetry excerpt is from 'The Wild Swans at Coole' by William Butler Yeats.


End file.
